


Meltdown

by SirLadySketch



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: After the battle, Angst, Canon Divergent, Gen, In which Lea wallows in angst, One last sad before I start the fix-it fics, Post KH3 "Bad Ending", Ships are open to interpretation, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 19:16:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17514371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLadySketch/pseuds/SirLadySketch
Summary: Lea never expected to make it out of the final battle alive, and yet, here he is.A What-If Fic about what I would call a "bad ending" for KH3, focused on Lea surviving against all odds. Not really spoilers, just supposition, but there are mentions of major character deaths, and Lea handling it badly.





	Meltdown

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [AutumnPlants ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnplants/pseuds/autumnplants/works?fandom_id=4182) and [ PineOvercoat ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineovercoat/works?fandom_id=4182)for reading through and helping me finish this in time!

Lea never expected to make it out of the final battle alive, and yet, here he is.

Not that he’d been _trying_ to get himself killed, he’s been there, done that once before and he isn’t interested in going down in a blaze of glory ever again, not if he can help it. Dying had _hurt_ , and really, it would be tough to top Axel’s fireworks.

But at the same time, he’d prepared himself for the worst-- After all, he’d had firsthand experience living with Xemnas and other vessels of Xehanort, had almost _become_ one of those vessels, knew the power and feeling of invincibility that came with wielding the Darkness. He’d expected a fight, and knew he’d give it his all, he just hadn’t expected to make it out alive.

Except he did.

Not to say that it hadn’t been a close call a couple of times, but somehow, _somehow_ he got back up every time he was knocked down. Somehow he managed to be there for the end of it, the meeting of light and darkness, prophecies and… well, some of it’s still a bit fuzzy, he _had_ taken a bunch of hits. He’d fallen in battle, he was sure of it, but when he fell he’d been at peace and prepared for whatever came next.

Next is waking with sunlight in his eyes and the distant noises of a city stirring, ready for a new day.

He’s tucked into an unfamiliar bed that smelled faintly of animals and machine oil. The ache of a broken arm and fractured ribs reminds him of the _why_ he’s in bed, but not the where. He lays disoriented in pain for a good five minutes before he feels a warmth stirring beside him, and he looks over to see two juvenile dalmatians shifting in their sleep on their half of the bed. The female has her head resting on his stomach, while the male somehow managed to wedge himself between Lea’s knees and has stretched out the entire length of Lea’s legs.

Leon’s dogs, he remembers through the haze of sleep and pain. Leon’s dogs, because he was staying in Leon’s house, one of the places the Restoration Committee had managed to make mostly habitable again. The bed that Leon had offered because Lea’s old home had been destroyed when the world fell and was still buried in the rubble beneath the castle, and because Isa’s place hadn’t been-- because _Isa_ had--

He can’t finish that thought, weeks later and he _still_ can’t think of Isa without seeing him die. Without knowing that _he’d_ been the one who failed to save him, knowing that _Isa_ had become _Saix_ and had only become _Isa_ again long enough to ask for forgiveness as he lay bleeding out in Lea’s arms. It’s a hollow ache, a keening wail that wells up in his throat and lodges there, choking him until his breaths come in short, pained pants. It’s been weeks since he’s been able to get anything out, weeks since he’s been able to cry.

It’s almost a relief when, as they always do, the familiar memories of more deaths overload his heart to the point where he’s numb and nothing hurts, nothing hurts because there’s nothing _left_ to hurt.

Xion had been the first to go. Sweet, gentle Xion, newly reborn and remembered, reclaiming her heart as her own before Xigbar cut her down. He’ll never be able to forget her face again because he’ll have nightmares replaying her death over and over for the rest of his life.

Ienzo had followed, nothing in his books and computer programs preparing him for the blow that came from behind. It’d been a clean death, at least-- no pain, King Mickey had said it’d been instant. Not like Demyx-- Meyd -- who’d kept getting knocked over and getting up again, determined to the last to prove his existence had meaning. Others had been injured, a few had disappeared, but the last to fall was--

“Don’t you think you should get up?”

Lea cracks open an eye to stare up at Leon standing in the doorway, expression neutral. He almost laughs. It was always the same with Leon; same questions (nagging), same suggestions (ignored), same results (giving up). Lea would enjoy the familiar routine if he had any capacity left to feel anything. He just stares back at Leon, waiting for the next move in their little dance.

He’d known Leon back in the early days, back when he was Squall, before he’d gotten his reputation as leader and before he’d been in the fight that left him marked for the rest of his life. Granted, they’ve all come away with scars since then, Leon’s are just more visible. They might’ve been friends, once upon a time. If things had turned out differently. If things had been different, and if Lea hadn’t--- if he and Isa hadn’t---

“Sora’s coming by this afternoon. Are you going to be here?”

Not quite curt, but Lea can hear the borderline irritation in the voice, knows he’s probably testing the limits of Leon’s patience. If he cared, he’d find that funny, might even go out of his way to see how far he could push the man’s reserve, find out how much he could tease. Isa had always said he was good at pushing people’s buttons, that he was good at getting himself into trouble, that Lea would--

“Lea--”

That Lea would be the death of him.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Lea interrupts. He dislodges the dogs and extracts himself from the bed with slow, careful movements. The ribs complain but he doesn’t say anything, he’s stopped taking the pain meds ages ago, and he pads over to the dresser to find clean clothes for another day of… nothing. He’s still supposed to be taking it easy, but there’ve been enough boredom-induced incidents that Leon politely asked him to find other places to amuse himself while everyone else is out working.

Lea starts to strip before he realizes Leon is still there, watching him. A change from their usual banter, but Lea can’t find enough in him to care or even question it, just goes back to changing. The older man’s face softens, just a bit, and Lea braces for another well-meaning lecture about letting things go and moving on as he pulls down his shirt and reaches for his scarf.

“Walk the dogs,” Leon says instead, and leaves before Lea can protest.

Lea looks over at the bed where the pups still lay nestled in the covers, comfortable, but alert. They wag their tails when they see they have his attention, one of them going as far as giving a little yip of excitement. They know that word, their bodies tense with excitement, but they’re waiting for Lea to agree.

Something cracks in his chest and he smiles, just a little.

“Alright, enough with the puppy eyes, we’ll go for a walk.”

\- - - -

With most of the city still under construction they’re limited in new places they can go, but the dogs seem happy with the familiar route. They sniff in all the old familiar places, bark at the defense system droids that pop into existence only to disappear as Tron leads them on a merry chase. They run after a ball that bounces high and at odd angles, sending them careening down the streets after it.

They’re in one of the farther reaches of the castle town, places where most of the architecture is still intact. Ironically, it’s also the place where they’re less likely to run into people, given that those who aren’t working in the trenches are up at the castle proper, cleaning out the horrors from Ansem’s basement. It’s mostly paperwork at this point but he’s grateful that no one expects him to help out down there.

Lea shivers at the memory of cold stone and pain and drugs, of shadows in the corners coming to life. Of cold, golden eyes that watch, impervious to his screams of agony, while they extract his heart. He’d been strong, back then. It’d taken a long time.

A joyful barking of a dog snaps him back into the present, and he focuses on the two spotted pups returning from their mission, tails wagging a mile a minute. It’s definitely not the ball he threw.

He laughs, another tiny fracture, and kneels to pat them both on the head. “Dogs, that’s a stick.” He gets a lick in the face from both of them when he manages to wrangle it away from them, then throws as hard as he can in the same direction they’d come. Maybe they’ll find the ball this time.

“Hey Mister Lea!”

A kid’s voice, raspy and vaguely familiar. Lea looks over towards one of the open stall shops and sees three ducklings-- he’s pretty sure they’re related to Donald and the old entrepreneur, although how he can’t remember. And there was something about Traverse Town? What’s worse, he can’t remember their names, despite the fact that he’s seen them around town a couple of times now. He fumbles through his memories, searching for names.

“Just Lea,” he says out of habit, then taps his head. “Get it memorized.” He should follow his own advice, and vows to get their names from Aerith, next time he sees her.

“Ice cream?” another one asks, at least he _thinks_ it’s another one, they all sound the same and he didn’t see who called out to him first. He pauses, confused, trying to figure out what they’re asking him.

“I…” he trails off. The memory of salt and sweet comes sudden and unbidden to his tongue, a special treat after a long day of missions. But it’s not really the ice cream, it was never about the ice cream, not really. It was about laughter and friends, forgetting who and what they were, pretending everything would be ok, just for a little while.

“--ice cream?” He missed the first bit of the question again, he’s pretty sure the kid was just repeating himself, but he can’t focus on that, can’t focus because why would he have ice cream? Why would he want it when there’s no one left?

Another crack. They never got to the beach, he realizes. Xion had wanted to show them the ocean, the three of them, together, laughing under the summer sun. But she’d died and all that’s left are seashells at the clock tower, hidden in their secret spot. Xion is gone, and the last to fall was--

“Hey, Mister Lea, are you ok?”

He’s pretty sure it’s a different one this time, but he still can’t remember their names. He opens his mouth to speak, wondering why they look so upset, but then he feels it. The fractures in the casing around his heart have opened up just enough to let him cry again, and the tears are flowing freely down his face. He didn’t even realize, didn’t even _feel_ them, but now he can taste them, salty on his tongue, just like ice cream, and--

“What’s wrong, Mister Lea?”

And Roxas was the last to fall, a smile on his face.

“Get _away_ from me!” he snarls all at once, and the kids stumble back, startled. Even the dogs drop the stick they’ve been playing with to fall back and cower. Lea stands there with tears rolling down his face and fire-laced chakrams in his hand--

Oh.

He looks down at the weapons, confused. Oh, that’s probably not good, not at all.

He dispels them and tries to summon his keyblade instead, to remind himself that he’s past all that, that he’s _Lea_ not Axel, but it’s just a wheel of fire this time, the weapons not even able to take shape. There’s a wrenching ache in his side and he remembers _cracked ribs_ as he opens a portal of darkness and stumbles through, falling onto sun-warmed stones.

\- - - -

He comes to in another town, just as familiar as Radiant Gardens. A home away from home, except that he doesn’t have a lot of ties back at RG, and he’s got even fewer to bring him back here. There’s nothing, _no one_ here. They say ‘home is where the heart is,’ so it makes sense that when you have nothing left you go back to the last place where you had _something_ , even if it was all just a lie.

So of course, of _course_ he’d end up here.

Twilight Town’s rooftops glow in the warm evening sun, the sky beyond a tapestry of brilliant reds, purples, and yellows. He hasn’t been here since that time he came up here to wait for Xion and Roxas’ return and met with Saix instead. It hadn’t been a happy meeting, and he hadn’t stayed around to give the place a proper goodbye. Why would he? He’d always planned to come back with enough ice cream for three.

But Xigbar tore Xion apart, and Roxas, last to fall, died with a smile on his face.

It wasn’t _fair_.

Lea hadn’t been there when they woke up, he’d been chasing memories of Isa across the worlds, trusting in Sora to take care of them until he could return. He’d owed it to Isa, after all-- they’d been best friends, swore to have each other’s backs no matter what. Saix wasn’t Isa, the Isa he knew was stronger than that, and he’d set out to find a way to prove that. To Isa, to himself, to everyone else, he wasn’t sure. But he’d hurled himself into the darkness to chase him, sea salt ice cream on the tower all but forgotten.

He’d seen Xion, felt the hug around his middle before he’d actually registered who she was. They’d even had a few hours to talk, to remember, to make promises about what they’d do once everything was over. She’d given him a shell, and he’d promised to buy ice cream and train tickets to the sea.

Roxas had been off with Sora, something about needing to be there when they went to wake Ven. But Roxas had left a note-- _he was always leaving notes when it was too hard to say goodbye_ \-- and Roxas had chided him for missing him, telling him he needed to stop napping and get back to work already. That he hoped they could go back and revisit some of the worlds where they’d gone on missions together, places where Axel had helped Roxas feel like he had a heart. That he couldn’t wait to see what it was like, now that they were both whole.

Lea keeps the letter and the shell safe in his pocket, just above his heart. He hadn’t bothered sending a reply, knowing that he’d see Roxas soon. And he had, but it hadn’t been until he’d woken up again and clawed his way back onto the battlefield.

Roxas had been standing there with keyblade at the ready, prepared to take down anyone who got in his way. Lea had called out to him, wishing he was able to move faster, to get up and stand by Roxas’ side, and Roxas had turned. Roxas had turned and spotted him, and that stupid, brilliant smile had lit up his face when he saw who it was.

And then Saix took advantage of the distraction, and Roxas fell with a smile on his face.

Lea lets out a long, shaky sigh. The tears are still coming, haven’t stopped since they started over the the damn ice cream, and--

 _No_ , he reminds himself. _It was never about the ice cream._

It’s just that he’s just not sure what he’s supposed to do now. When _Lea_ was young, it was all about getting into places he shouldn’t without getting caught, inevitably dragging Isa along for the ride. Then it was trying to escape, trying to hold on just long enough that he could manage an escape and a rescue. _Axel_ , at least, had a clear goal: pave the way for Saix to find out what was going on so that they could ultimately regain their hearts.

But now he’s _Lea_ again and there’s no Isa, no Xion, no Roxas. He wants what he can’t have, and if he hadn’t just finished fighting a war to show the detrimental effects of time travel, he’d consider turning to the darkness again, if nothing else than to see them _one more time_.

The alternative is to forget them completely, find happiness in ignorance. And he’s in the right place for it-- Namine might protest to start off, but he’s won arguments with her before. And that might work, forgetting them all at least for a while, but he knows that in the long run he’ll just be miserable again. Roxas had already proved that twice over--once when he tried to discover the truth behind the keyblade, and again when he was lost in data, trying to find himself but finding Sora instead.

Ignorance is never bliss, but it’s not a fault, either. Those kids didn’t know any better.

He sighs and leans back against the wall, soaking in the heat of the fading sun. _Let’s meet again in the next life._ But he’d missed his chance, too focused on chasing the past, and the future looked bleak and empty. So what does he do now?

_It’s the memories that create the things we don’t want to lose._

It was never about the ice cream.

He sighs, and gets to his feet. Now, he goes back to apologize.

\- - - -

The dogs are still chewing on the stick when he gets back, the three kids supervising a few feet away. Lea chuckles and steps from the darkness, hands in his pockets. 

“Thanks for watching them for me.”

The three kids synchronize jump at the sound of his voice, and he cracks a wry smile. The dogs tear away from the ducklings and run at him. He’s bowled over and in pain but laughing, trying to ward off their tongues as he slowly gets back to his feet.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier, I was just--” he cuts himself off, not really sure how to finish that without having to go into more detail. He tries again, “Earlier, it’s just, when you said… I just…”

He sighs, digs into his pockets, and holds out his peace offerings.

“An apology,” he says as they take the sea salt popsicles. They look confused, and he rubs a hand over his eyes to press back any other tears that might try to escape.

“I used to eat ice cream with… with some of my friends who didn’t make it,” he explains. “I’m sorry I overreacted, I just…”

“Gee, Mister Lea, it’s ok,” says the one in blue, and the red one pipes up, “Yeah! We just thought you looked sad.”  The third one chimes in, “Ice cream is great for cheerin’ people up!”

Lea laughs. “That’s true.”

“It’s salty!” complains one as he takes a bite, and one of his brothers gives his own popsicle a lick.

“Yeah, but it’s sweet, too!”

“Unca Scrooge doesn’t have anything like this in his shop.” The third turns to Lea, excited. “What’s it called, Mister Lea?”

“Sea salt ice cream,” Lea supplies, then taps the side of his head again. “And it’s--”

“Hey, Lea, do you think we can take one to Unca Scrooge?” the first one interrupts, and Lea shrugs.

“I wasn’t planning on going back there anytime soon, but I guess I could--”

“He’s been lookin’ for new flavors, this is perfect!” the second chimes in, already scheming. He turns to Lea, too. “Unca Scrooge’s been too busy to find new stuff to try,” he explains.

“You’ve been everywhere, you could help him out!” the third suggests. “You wanna make ice cream, Lea?”

“I…” Lea trails off, remembering laughter and sunsets, and _it was never about the ice cream_. He gives them a wry smile. “Sure, I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my "To Do" list for MONTHS and I managed to get it all done in less than 24 hours, eyyyyy. XD


End file.
